Stuck In The Middle
Prolouge The dark brown she-cat sighed as the spirit of the young cat passed on to StarClan. A half moon ago, a battle had broken out with ShadowClan, and the wounds young Brightmoon had sustained during the fight had been unable to heal. A quarter moon after infection set in, the small white she-cat had died peacefully in her sleep. The medicine cat scraped the loose herbs into a pile before touching her nose to Brightmoon's still flank. "May StarClan light your path, young Brightmoon," She murmured, before taking the bundle of herbs into her jaws and pushing past the branches of the medicine den. A broad brown tabby tom paced in the clearing beyond, his white laws clogged with mud left over from rain the night before. His flame-tinted eyes were dark with worry, and his head snapped up as the she-cat set the branches of the entrance clattering. "Mossfur!" The tom bounded over, his claws leaving tracks in the soft dirt of the ground. He halted in front of her, his striped tail lashing quickly. "How is she? Did you get rid of the infection?" Mossfur bowed her head, hiding her green eyes from sight. "She's dead, Pinefoot. I couldn't stop the bleeding." There was no response from the tom. Mossfur lifted her head cautiously - Pinefoot's eyes were stretched wide, unfocused, his claws digging so hard into the ground that Mossfur feared he would wrench one. "She...she can't be dead," Pinefoot stammered. "You said you could help her..." "The bleeding was worse than I thought," Mossfur murmured when it was clear Pinefoot was at a loss for words. "No cat could've helped her. The wound was too deep." She turned away, away from those yellow eyes burning with a lost love and uncontrolled grief. Pinefoot barged past her, knocking her away from the entrance and ducking into the medicine den. Mossfur waited, her paws beginning to tremble, just as a loud, heart broken howl burst from the den. Mossfur closed her eyes - she doubted she would ever forget the sound of that wail, the sound of a love so strong it would burn the cat alive if it was destroyed. The medicine cat could hardly stand the knowledge that it was her fault Pinefoot sounded like that, would hurt inside everyday for the rest of his life - because she couldn't save the love of his life. "She's dead?" A voice called. Mossfur lifted her head, numb, to see who had spoken. A small dark tortoiseshell she-cat, all but a shadow in the black of night, only her tan patches of fur and pale green eyes visible. "Yes, Mistyclaw," Mossfur murmured, flopping to the ground in exhaustion. "I couldn't save her. Brightmoon's dead..." The tortoiseshell sighed and padded over to her, pressing her nose to the medicine cat's shoulder. "If you couldn't save her, no cat could," Mistyclaw murmured gently. "Not even StarClan. You're the best medicine cat RiverClan has had in a long time." Mossfur felt bitter hatred rise in the back of her throat. What did it say about her if she couldn't even stop a cat from bleeding to death? At least she'd made it as comfortable as possible for Brightmoon - while she had shied away from deathberries, she had given her a large dose of poppy seeds. Brightmoon had fallen into a deep, drug-induced sleep that couldn't even be interrupted by the pain of death. "You should get some sleep," Mistyclaw advised, stepping back from Mossfur. As if the warrior's words had women her senses, Mossfur realized she was exhausted, her paws heavy and numb and her eyes burning with the need to close. She nodded mutely and Mistyclaw padded back to her post as guard, tail drooping as if thinking about the lost life. Knowing full-well she couldn't go back to her den to sleep - Pinefoot would still be inside, curled up tight against hus dead mate - Mossfur settled for scraping some bracken and moss together in a makeshift nest. Not caring if the shaft of a feather or a brittle piece of bracken poked her in her sleep, Mossfur fell into a fitful sleep, her dreams interrupted by the sound of Pinefoot's tortured moans. What Mossfur didn't know was that Brightmoon hadn't made it safely to StarClan. No StarClan warrior came to collect her spirit when she passed on - so Brightmoon's spirit was trapped in the space between StarClan and the living. Unable to move on to the afterlife, unable to get her body and life back. Trapped where no cat was trapped before. Chapter One Coldness seeped through Brightmoon's pelt like claws, reaching through fur and flesh to wrap themselves around her bones. She didn't move; her limbs felt stiff and immobile. But the chill deepened, persistent like a paw prodding her in the flank. With a cry, Brightmoon shot to her paws, giving her body a vigorous shake to chase away the coldness that had taken root deep inside her. Shivering, the white warrior lifted her head to the sky, confusion taking up as her prime emotion. She couldn't remember much - waking up in Mossfur's den to a sharp pain in her belly, unable to control her wails. The tabby medicine cat looming over her, saying the wound in her belly had re-opened and infection had set. Lancing pain as Mossfur pressed herbs to the wound, trying to staunch it. An entire pawful of tiny black seeds being pushed into her mouth and chased down her throat by water. A heavy, dragging blackness that tugged at her fur, unable to break free of the sleepy warmth that pulled her under... And then nothing. Even the painful last moments before death hadn't woken Brightmoon. But then that can't be right, Brightmoon argued with herself. Because I'm obviously not dead. Somehow Mossfur got the bleeding to stop, cured the infection, and I didn't die. But if that's true, how did I get in the middle of the forest? Brightmoon paused as another thought brought her up short. My belly doesn't hurt. She sat back on her haunches, lifting up her forelegs so she could get a better look at her underbelly. A thin, silvery scar parted the white fur where the wound had once been. Brightmoon's heart took off. Even if Mossfur had cured me, it wouldn't have sealed shut and scared already. The sound of pawsteps jerked her from her reverie. Thank StarClan! Brightmoon struggled so she could stand just as a patrol broke through the bushes and stopped to rest. "He's so messed up," Mistyclaw was saying as she paused to flick some bracken from her paw. Her brother Bramblepatch sighed. "Do you blame him? They were in love." "Mossfur blames herself," Silvermoon murmured, wrapping her sparkly white tail over her paws. "If she had worked harder, I heard her saying to Coldgaze this morning. If only she'd worked harder." "Pinefoot wouldn't let anyone say good-bye to her at the vigil last night," Bramblepatch sighed. Brightmoon stiffened. Pinefoot was her mate. "He chased away anyone that tried. He didn't have too long himself to say his farewells - she died at moonhigh." Echopaw, Midtyclaw's daughter, twitched an ear. "Does any cat know who did it to her?" She asked quietly, cuffing a paw across the dirt. Bramblepatch growled. "That ShadowClan scum Darktalon. Some other warrior pinned her down and Darktalon cut her belly open like a fish." Brightmoon's blood ran cold. They were talking about her, the injury she'd received in the battle against ShadowClan a half moon ago. But they'd said she had died. Why couldn't they see her? She was standing right there! "Where did he burry her?" Silvermoon asked, green eyes very wide. "I doubt he buried her in the usual gravesite. If he went through all the trouble to make sure the elders didn't bury her I'm sure he put her somewhere special." Brightmoon nearly choked. Buried her? How could you bury a cat that's still alive? How could you mistake a dead cat for an alive one? "Hello!" Brightmoon flung herself in front of Bramblepatch, who'd been a friend of hers, waving her tail frantically. "I'm still alive! What are you talking about? They never buried me! I'm alive!" But Bramblepatch didn't seem to see or hear her, even though she was so close that her breath billowed in his face. "We'd better get back to camp," Mistyclaw sighed, getting to her paws. "No!" Brightmoon screeched, hurling herself at the tortoiseshell queen. But with a squall of surprise, she passed through her Clanmate like she was nothing but mist. The rest of the patrol got to their paws and padded after her through the bracken, leaving a stunned and sick-feeling Brightmoon behind. "Come back!" She yowled after them, pelting through the trees the way they'd went. "I'm here!" She drew to a halt, panting and tired, at the bank of the river. She wasn't sure why, but her instincts were telling her to keep away from water, that something terrible would happen if she touched it. Her head drooped miserably. She was a RiverClan cat - she was practically born in water, and now she couldn't even touch it. "Come back," She whispered pathetically. Brightmoon jumped and whirled around as a voice spoke from the shadows. "They can't hear you, you know." Chapter Two Brightmoon's claws slid out as she narrowed her eyes at a bramble bush where the voice had come from. "Show yourself!" She snarled, the fur on the back of her neck rising. If her own Clanmates hadn't been able to see her...why could this cat? Her question was answered as soon as the speaker slid out from the shadows. A small black she-cat, so young-looking she had to have been an apprentice, with white paws and tail-tip. But her whole body was transparent - Brightmoon could see the undergrowth through her pelt. Only her eyes, the color of a lazy afternoon sky, were completely solid. "My name's Nightpaw," She whispered as she sat down. "I died about five years ago. I was a WindClan cat." Brightmoon flinched. This cat had died? So, was she a StarClan cat? But that didn't answer the question - why couldn't her Clanmates see her? "I'm not a StarClan cat," Nightpaw went on, as if she could read Brightmoon's thoughts. "And I'm not of the Dark Forest, either." She sighed. "Every cat is assigned a StarClan warrior, who will come to guide their soul to StarClan when they die. A family member, a close friend, even a mentor. But if your StarClan warrior doesn't come to help you, your soul stays trapped on earth, and the path to StarClan is closed. The dead are trapped among the living, and it's no place to be." Brightmoon stiffened. "So...I really did die?" She whispered, not wanting to believe it. Some cat was just...playing a cruel joke. But her heart plummeted when Nightpaw nodded. "Whoever was assigned to guide you to StarClan didn't come. So you're trapped here." Brightmoon dropped into a crouch, closing her eyes tight and her claws digging into the earth. No. She would never get to see her sisters and brother, who had drowned in the river trying to fish during a storm. Or her only daughter, Dapplekit, who had died of greencough a moon after she was born. "I'm sorry," Nightpaw whispered, shifting her paws uneasily. "But you're not alone. There are a few other cats here, cats who never made it to StarClan." Hope flared in the dead cat's eyes. "Maybe we could be friends." "Friends?" Brightmoon spat, so fiercely that Nightpaw flinched back. "You're trying to make friends, when you could be figuring a way out of here? We're StarClan's rejects! Not good enough for the paradise, not evil enough for the Place of No Stars. We're just...nothing." Nightpaw's eyes flashed, as Brightmoon turned and plunged through the bracken. She didn't bother swerving out of the way of trees and bushes - just like she wasn't there, she passed through them. Dead. She'd most likely never see Pinefoot again, unless she followed him when he went on patrol. A tiny flame of joy spread in her heart when she realized that's exactly what she would do - and she would still be able to be with him. Even if he couldn't see her. She couldn't feel anything. She could hear the breeze, making the branches sway and the grass wave, but no coolness made her own fur move or make her skin tingle. She couldn't feel the ground under her paws, just a sense of stability. There was no heartbeat in her ears, no warmth of blood moving in her veins. She was just a hollow shell of who she used to be. Feeling exhausted and overwhelmed, Brightmoon dragged herself under a bramble bush, covering her nose with her paws. Dead. That was the last thought she had before falling into the dead cat's version of sleep. Chapter Three Coming soon!